


A little push from fate

by ScriptaManent



Series: Letters to keep close to the heart [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Argentina, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Homesickness, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Living abroad, M/M, Oikawa Week 2020, Pining, Reunions, spoilers for chapter 370
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:20:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25363000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent
Summary: Getting used to a new place, a new life, a new culture is always a great trial. On the other side of the world, Oikawa struggled to get used to Argentina. Homesickness isn’t an easy feeling to get rid of, but sometimes home can be found in the least expected places and at the least expected moment.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Letters to keep close to the heart [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830172
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80
Collections: Oikawa Week 2020





	A little push from fate

**Author's Note:**

> ✰ Oikawa Week 2020 – Day 7: New beginnings ✰
> 
> Again, thank you @dazzletwig for being my beta ♡
> 
> Both parts can be read independantly but since this one is a continuation of "Memories to warm the heart", I'd suggest reading it first! /!\ Spoilers for chapter 370!

Near the bed, the luggage stood wide open, unattended for days. Oikawa hadn’t found the strength to unpack his clothes. Only the bare minimum had made it out of the baggage: some underwear, a few t-shirts, his skin care products, razor and brush, and a few dehydrated ramen packets he had taken with him to survive on until he went shopping.

The jet lag was still hitting hard, but it was only adding to the homesickness that was pinning him down. He was away from everyone he loved, and the twelve-hour time difference made it nearly impossible to call his family.

Besides, one of the biggest problems of moving to Argentina was the language barrier. Oikawa could speak Japanese, pretty good English, and some basic words of Spanish, but that was it. Everywhere he went, people were speaking Spanish, and he would probably not have minded if he hadn’t been so tired, but hell, he was _exhausted_.

Every morning he kept telling himself he would do something on the next day, and every time, he was too tired to move. He would have to get out soon, though, because he was running short on food.

A morning jog, a few new people to meet, some good food, and he’d be back on track, he knew it. All he needed was a little push from fate, and it came in the form of a text message.

His phone screen lit up at eight in the morning on the fourth day. It was a text from Iwaizumi, asking how he was and saying he was getting worried that Oikawa hadn’t even dropped an emoji in the Seijoh group chat yet.

Groaning, Oikawa fumbled for his phone in the darkness of the room. When he couldn’t reach it and the phone went dark again, he eventually decided to open the shutters. The bright sun of South America blinded him for a second and he cursed in all the languages he knew — even in Russian, but he couldn’t recall where he had learnt it.

After a quick reply — alright, alright, a succession of short messages that would for sure upset Iwaizumi — Oikawa found himself digging for clothes in his luggage. He took them out, piling them up on his bed, sorting them by temperature it was appropriate to wear them — a dormant part of his mind noted that half the t-shirts he had taken with him had been gifted to him by his sister or Iwaizumi at some point in his life. San Juan’s desert climate was far from Sendai’s subtropical one, and he already knew he would bless the first rain when he would be back in Japan. The next time he would see snow, he would probably regress to his eight years old self.

Once he was done sorting his clothes out, he opened the wardrobe in his student room and started unpacking his whole suitcase. He stopped only when it was empty and rolled it to a wall, where it would stay until the day he would leave the country.

The next step to a normal life was the bathroom, and Oikawa cringed as soon as he saw his reflection in the mirror. How had he let himself go for so long? He looked ten years older than he was.

When he stepped out, refreshed, in fitting clothes, and his hair in a better state than the crow nest it had been, Oikawa was already feeling a lot better. He flicked a look at his phone and read through the missed conversation in the group chat, replied to some mean comments — and discovered his nickname had been changed to the poop and crown emojis.

A smile across his face, he shouldered his bag, pocketed his keys and went out for groceries.

* * *

Out in the afternoon sun that burnt everything down, Oikawa didn’t meet many people in the streets... Which made getting lost on his way to the volleyball club a lot more annoying, especially since he had forgotten to charge his phone before he left — his sister would kill him for that.

In his defense, San Juan was a maze, and Oikawa had never seen places with so many street corners. Seen from above, San Juan was all squares and angles, and Oikawa had thought his sense of orientation was good enough to maneuver in the unknown town. Of course, he had been wrong.

Seeking the shade for safety, Oikawa congratulated himself for taking water with him on his little exploration trip.

Everything was so different from Japan… And everything felt in harmony with the local climate: desert.

Palm trees stood tall in the wide streets, clear of all people save for a few suicidal pigeons. Even if he hadn’t suffered from the heat, looking at the sky would have been enough for Oikawa to immediately dehydrate. It was bright, shining white, blinding, and the sun was higher than Oikawa was used to seeing. Even the orange tiled pavements of the main streets were enough to tell he was on the other side of the world.

He followed them to the main place, where some people were basking in the sun like blissful lizards. For a split second, his inner child surfaced, wondering whether they were real people or aliens in disguise. There was no way humans could stand being in the direct sunlight in Argentina.

Already exhausted after only half an hour outdoors, Oikawa dropped into the nearest bench he could find — the nearest bench in the shade. He closed his eyes and drank the rest of his water bottle, listening to the refreshing sound of the fountains flowing nearby.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat near him, and he startled when a stranger addressed him in Spanish.

“ _Perdona, ¿te has perdido?”_ the woman said, staring at him with big eyes. Her long hair was braided in her neck, revealing sunburnt shoulders that would probably hurt in a few hours.

Oikawa felt his expression mirror hers as he tried to process what she was asking. Or at least, he supposed it was a question from the rising tone of her voice, but he wasn’t even sure of that.

Instinctively, he put on a charming, sheepish smile, his head slightly tilting to one side as he stuttered his first words of Spanish, his accent thick and awkward on his tongue.

“ _Um, sorry… No hablo mucho español_.”

The woman clapped her hands together, taking a step back with a nearly horrified expression. She was a living show that immediately warmed Oikawa’s heart. He noticed that he had been craving real social interactions, and this was the first person he had talked to in days. Wow, he had really let himself go…

“ _Aaaah, I’m sorry!_ ” the woman exclaimed, this time in English. Her Spanish accent was piercing through the words, making them more musical, and it made Oikawa feel better about his own. “ _Is English alright?”_

As he nodded, she went on.

“ _I was asking you if you were lost? Are you a tourist or something?”_

 _“Actually, I’m gonna spend the next few years here. I’m a starting pro volleyball player_ ,” he explained, immediately cringing at how fast he had brought volleyball into the conversation.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed — of course not, he was a proud setter, he would never take it back — but he had learnt that regular people were usually scared off as soon as he started talking about the sport. This woman was the first person to come to him, his first acquaintance in Argentina, and somehow he hoped she would stick around for a little bit longer. He would probably need help to get used to this new life, and first of all, to find the volleyball club.

Nonetheless, the woman’s only reactions were a nod and a smile.

_“I’m Lucia, by the way.”_

_“Oikawa Tooru,_ ” the other smiled, shaking her hand when she reached out.

Yet, a frown creased her face and Lucia froze slightly, studying him a bit longer.

 _“Is that your full name, or your first name only?”_ Lucia couldn’t help but ask, genuinely confused, causing him to laugh.

He would need to get used to this too.

_“You can call me Tooru.”_

One thing was certain: Argentina was definitely going to push him out of his comfort zone.

He offered the woman another smile and followed her to a more fitting place to chat. Oikawa and Lucia spent the rest of the day together, sitting at a coffee shop whose air conditioner was considered a national treasure by foreigners. For one afternoon, she managed to make Oikawa feel at ease, almost belonging to this new culture he still needed to get accustomed to.

After an hour and half, including quite a long time that Oikawa spent ranting about how different Argentina was from Japan, Lucia took him to her favourite store and helped him pick food that would be easy to cook. Hopefully, Oikawa wouldn’t be too grossed out by the textures and tastes he wasn’t used to. Argentina’s culinary culture revolved around meat, and he wondered how many pieces of beef one could ingest before getting sick.

His cart full of things he could barely identify for most of them, covered in words he for sure couldn’t decipher, a vision of the future came to Oikawa’s mind. He was back in Japan, and Iwaizumi was making fun of him for the weight he had gained after eating so much for years.

It was at this exact moment, in the middle of a store, on the other side of the globe, in the company of a stranger, that Oikawa was hit with the realisation that there wasn’t a timeline, even hypothetical, where he didn’t see Iwaizumi by his side.

His mind raced back to his flat, to the letter hidden in the top drawer of the desk, and went back in time to the airport, to the moment he had found it in his bag, and even earlier, when he had had to say goodbye—

“ _Earth to Tooru, Earth to Tooru! Are you still with me?_ ” Lucia called, mocking, bringing him back to the present.

He blinked, the neon lights of the store slowly reappearing in his vision. He was in Argentina, and all around him were people he couldn’t understand and words he couldn’t read.

A void manifested in his chest, like a black hole that Oikawa chose to ignore. Homesickness would have to wait. For now, he was making connections.

His heart clenched tighter when Lucia took him to the Asian food alley, but it was for a whole other reason, and Lucia burst out laughing just looking at his expression. Her laugh doubled when he insisted that he would pass out if she dared take him anywhere near what they had the audacity to call Asian _food_ again. This was junk for pseudo-nerds — there was no way this could be real food.

* * *

They had known each other for only three hours when Lucia walked Oikawa home, and he couldn’t help but invite her to have dinner with him as a thank you.

 _“I would really have loved to, but actually I have plans for tonight, sorry!”_ Lucia apologized, her grin widening at the thought. _“My girlfriend and I are celebrating our six months together!”_

There was an awkward moment while Oikawa processed her words and Lucia remained staring at him, waiting for a reaction.

He blinked a few times, wide-eyed, and a mocking smile stretched Lucia’s lips when he opened and closed his mouth several times without making a sound.

 _“Is there a problem, Tooru?”_ she asked, teasing at first, but soon a distrustful frown creased her forehead. _“If you’re not comfortable with this, we can always part ways here, really._ ”

 _“No! No no no! I mean, sorry, that was rude, I’m just surprised,_ ” he immediately said, waving his hands in front of him. Damn it, now she probably thought he was a douche. _“I’m glad you have someone you care about,_ ” he continued with a genuine smile, rubbing his neck sheepishly. _“This was the first time someone came out to me,_ _actually…”_

He paused all of sudden, remembering the existence of the pile of letters in his drawer. Among the heart-warming letters from his friends and family was a particular one, anonymous and yet familiar.

No, it was different. A confession was different. Hell, it _felt_ different!

And still, Iwaizumi’s words to Oikawa held the same weight, they were of the same nature as the bond between Lucia and her girlfriend. Only, in Iwaizumi’s case, it hadn’t felt much out of ordinary, as if it was only the natural growth of their relationship.

“ _Tooru? Tooru?”_ Lucia’s voice brought him back to his flat, the walls of the corridor closing on him. _“Are you okay? You’ve been spacing out quite often._ ”

He blinked again, and a smile instinctively spread on his lips as he dismissed the silly idea. _“Yeah, don’t worry. I’m just tired, the jet-lag is still pretty hard on me,”_ he laughed.

He couldn’t help but note the unconvinced look on the woman’s face.

_“What’s your girlfriend’s name, by the way?”_

Lucia replied carefully, studying him for a second, and then slid her backpack on her front to dig into it.

“ _Zoe,”_ she answered, the tone of her voice melting around the name. “ _That’s the person you will have to look for if I’m reported dead in the morning because I was late to our date! Anyway, here’s my number. Hit me up if you need anything! You can find me on Whatsapp; it’ll be cheaper for us to keep in touch.”_

On these words, she sported the brightest, happiest smile Oikawa had ever seen on a woman’s face and jogged out of the building.

With Lucia gone, Oikawa was left alone with his food, and his thoughts. He proceeded to put the groceries away, storing most of them in his tiny fridge and having to force on the door for it to close tight. After a sigh, he decided to take the biggest piece of meat out and cook it for dinner. Food poisoning because of a badly closed fridge door wasn’t something he was dying to experience.

He worked on autopilot, his mind growing numb as time passed. By the time his meal was ready, he was barely hungry anymore.

He wasn’t used to this — the different food, the climate, the silence, eating alone… Since the door to his apartment had closed on Lucia, he had slowly been sliding back into his previous state of homesickness, and it was striking back, knocking him out on the ground.

As a last resort, Oikawa flicked a look at his phone that was charging on the bare floor, and brought it back to the table. He absentmindedly chewed on his meat that was growing cold, scrolling down on the group chat to read his missed texts. Maybe it was just him, but he was pretty sure there was already starting to be less and less of them to catch up with.

He was tempted to send a message to Iwaizumi, but he was probably still asleep, and he didn’t want to wake him up. 

The rest of the night passed in this weird sort of trance between lucidity and numbness, and he was glad when slumber eventually welcomed him hours later, the volleyball match he had been watching still playing on his phone.

* * *

Days passed, bringing him closer to the moment he would finally be able to practise with his new team and prove his worth to them. Yet, if days happened to go by pretty nicely, marked by moments spent enjoying life outside, watching matches, and meeting with Lucia and Zoe, nights were a more troublesome matter.

Two weeks had gone by since the day he had landed in Argentina, and now his flat was beginning to look a little more like a flat and a little less like a room where he was just stocking his stuff. He had pinned a photo of his team — _his_ team, Seijoh when he still was the captain — on the wall, along with his old jersey and letters from his family and friends. Only one had remained in the drawer. It was too intimate to be on display, and Lucia had proved herself to be a busybody. She was his friend, but damn, she was a nosy one, and she had already picked up on the way he was always talking about Iwaizumi. She didn’t need more blackmail material.

There was one downside to this small flat he had all for himself, though, and it was that it smelt strongly like food. Stored food, cooked food, thrown away packages of food… He couldn’t get rid of it. He was glad the typical Argentinian meal wasn’t fish, else he would have been doomed.

The smell wasn’t what kept him awake at night, anyway. It was the thoughts.

Oikawa had always been one to overthink in the dark, spending hour after hour chasing ideas instead of sleep. Or more accurately, it was the ideas that scared sleep off.

On one particular night, he lay on his back staring at the ceiling, minutes, and then hours passing by as he stayed awake. He kept the roughest, most dangerous thoughts at bay, but there were always some that managed to slip through the cracks of his mental wall. The nastiest one was loneliness, and it was one that had specialised into crawling to him whenever he tried to close his eyes.

So Oikawa had had to find new ways to push it away and lock it in the back of his mind, and this new way was staring at his phone in the dark. He scrolled through social media, liking or commenting on a few posts — usually from people he missed.

Takeru had lost another tooth. Namiko had baked a cake that seemed absolutely delicious — but Oikawa knew his sister’s desserts always looked way better than they tasted. He liked a photo of the gymnasium where he used to train and spent a solid five minutes staring at the balls scattered on the floor.

It was past three in the morning when his screen went black and Iwaizumi’s photo flashed under the pick up and hang up buttons. It was a cropped version of a wider photo he had once taken during practise, but he had snapped it exactly when Iwaizumi had glanced his way. Another photo taken two seconds before a disaster, but the look Iwaizumi gave him — full of trust, almost fond — warmed his heart whenever he saw it.

Well, it did right before loneliness washed over him tenfold, usually.

“Iwa-chan?” he said after picking up, putting a cheerful intonation to his voice.

He flinched as soon as the other replied and put the phone away one brief second to check the time. It was seventeen past three — in the morning in San Juan, and in the afternoon in Japan.

“What do you think you’re doing, Oikawa?!”

The latter forced himself to yawn on the phone.

“I’m talking to my best friend who just called me in the middle of the night. Did anything interesting happen over there?”

“Oh, cut the crap,” Iwaizumi snapped, and Oikawa couldn’t help but notice how raspy his voice sounded in the middle of the Argentinian night. “I saw you liking my post just two minutes ago. Why aren’t you asleep?”

Sighing, Oikawa gave up on the lies. They were pointless when it came to Iwaizumi, anyway.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Overthinking again?”

He swore Iwaizumi’s voice had become softer, and the photo he had stared at minutes ago appeared in his mind to fill the absence of his best friend by his side. God, he did miss him a lot.

“Yeah. Practise starts next week but time passes too slowly these days. Even Lucia is busy, so I can’t hang out with her either, and I feel like I already know the town by heart,” he continued with a sad laugh.

There was a short pause on the other side of the line, and Oikawa frowned in the dark, sitting up in his bed to rest his back against the wall.

“Iwa-chan? Are you still there?”

“Ah, yeah, sorry,” the other said, and something in his voice made Oikawa’s frown deepen. “Who’s Lucia? I don’t remember you talking about anyone.”

Another pause followed, this time from Oikawa’s side. It was true it had become harder to keep in touch with his friends, but he couldn’t imagine he hadn’t talked about her to anyone, especially not to Iwaizumi.

He rested his head against the wall as well, hitting it with a bit too much strength, and closed his stinging eyes.

“Sorry, Iwa-chan. I thought I had told you about her. Looks like I’m pretty bad at keeping in touch, huh?”

He heard a sound like clothes crumpling, and pictured Iwaizumi sitting down in a more comfortable position that mirrored his own.

“The time zones make it harder. Sorry for not talking more,” the other said from Japan, his voice a bare whisper. “I’m always afraid I’m gonna wake you up. Anyway, since you can’t seem to sleep, let’s catch up, alright?”

“Alright.”

Oikawa’s lips quivered, torn between a sad smile and straight up tears from hearing Iwaizumi’s voice. Instinctively, his gaze drifted to the drawer in front of him, to the letter Iwaizumi hadn’t brought back into any conversation.

_Oh._

How could he be so stupid?!

“I met Lucia a few weeks ago, she’s helped me get used to life here a lot,” he explained, a small smile playing on his lips, this one more sincere. “She’s a good friend. And also, she’s got a girlfriend,” he added, his smile widening in the dark when he heard the sharp inhale Iwaizumi took at the news.

“Another girl wise enough not to fall for you,” the other commented after one second too long. He was teasing, but his voice was still low, as it would have been if they had both been awake at night, together, sharing thoughts and stories in the dark.

Oikawa would have given anything for it to be the case.

“That’s mean, Iwa-chan. There are plenty of people who would fall for me. Besides, I don’t even know if she’s _only_ into girls. Your argument isn’t valid.”

Once more, Iwaizumi fell silent for a moment too long, and Oikawa mentally cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to approach such a touchy topic, but there were moments he couldn’t help but go straight into the walls.

“Anyway, how’s everyone doing?” Oikawa asked instead, blaming himself for his cowardice.

It was past three in the morning, he was tired, he was lonely, and so, naturally, the thought that maybe that last letter on the pile had been a prank, like the first one his friends had made one year ago, had settled in the back of his mind.

The lucid part of his mind knew it wasn’t the case, though, but now it was too late and he couldn’t bring himself to talk about it with Iwaizumi on the phone. It didn’t seem fair. Not even for Oikawa himself — he still didn’t trust his own reaction enough to give his best friend a real answer. It wasn’t that Iwaizumi was waiting for one — he had written his confession as a last resort, as a goodbye to someone he wouldn’t see in what would probably be years. But still, Oikawa owed him this much, at least.

He should probably have asked Matsukawa or Hanamaki, but they would have made fun of him for a start, and he wasn’t sure how reliable they were when it came to such personal matters. Not that there was anything they could disclose that would be compromising for him, though.

“The usual,” Iwaizumi started, bringing Oikawa back to present, and he realised he had already forgotten about his own question.

The setter found himself yawning for real. He lay back on his bed, his eyelids closing as Iwaizumi’s familiar voice lulled him to sleep.

“… and then Yahaba screamed in the gym. You should have been there, I had never heard him yell so loud,” Iwaizumi laughed, ending his retelling of what had happened on the day before, when he had visited the team.

He paused, probably listening to any noises coming from the other side of the line, waiting for a reaction from his friend.

“Oikawa, you still there?”

The other answered with a slight hum, his mind already far away in the weird state between consciousness and dreaming. He saw Iwaizumi speaking beside him, both of them sitting on a sofa, in a room he didn’t know but that felt like home.

Iwaizumi let out a soft laugh, and in Oikawa’s mind, Iwaizumi ruffled his friend’s hair with a half-fond half-amused look on his face.

“I’m gonna hang up, you’re probably sleeping already,” Iwaizumi said. “This was nice, talking to you again. I hate to say it, but I kinda miss you. It’s pretty quiet, here, without you around.”

Oikawa didn’t hear the rest of it, if there was any, but a single tear rolled down his face as he fell asleep.

* * *

Five days later, Iwaizumi called Oikawa again. The loud outburst of his ringtone made Oikawa jump to the ceiling, and his brows furrowed deeply when he noticed the time.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa immediately picked up, alarmed. “Are you okay?”

It was three in the afternoon, which made it the middle of the night in Japan, and on the other side of the phone, Iwaizumi sounded exhausted.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” the other started, struggling to find his words.

Oikawa gave up on the postcard he had been writing and straightened on his chair, giving his friend all his attention.

“Say, do you think you can be home around eight today?” Iwaizumi asked, and Oikawa imagined him pinching his nose in an attempt at focusing on a thought. “I’ll need you to do something for me, and you’ll need an internet connection.”

“Eight, Japan time? Morning?” Oikawa asked, glancing at the clock he had put on his wall.

It represented a volleyball, a present Lucia had gifted him as a joke, since he kept rambling about the sport and she was forced to listen to him without any way out. The truth was, she loved it, even though she had hardly known anything about it when they had met the first time, and Oikawa had promised to buy her two tickets for his first official match.

On the phone, Iwaizumi hesitated. “Eight in the evening for you,” he answered after a moment of probable mental gymnastics.

“I’ll be ready. But are you sure you’re okay?” Oikawa asked again, addressing a frown to the photo on his wall, where Iwaizumi’s face was twisted in anticipation of an uncontrolled punch.

“I’ll be alright, yeah. There’s a lot of stuff I need to work out right now,” the other explained, a smile in his voice.

The gears in Oikawa’s mind clicked immediately, and he let out an offended yelp.

“You got your university acceptance letters?! And you haven’t told me anything? Is that why you need me to send you something tonight?” he yelled in his phone, nearly falling from his chair in the excessive moves he made to punctuate every sentence.

Iwaizumi’s groan resonated in his ear, followed by a soft laugh and Oikawa tried not to pay attention to the way his heart raced faster at the sound.

“You’ll hear the whole story at eight, I promise. By the way, if you’re free, keep texting me. There’s something I need to do and I don’t want to fall asleep on it,” Iwaizumi continued.

“But Iwa-chan, it’s three in the morning, for you,” Oikawa opposed, confused. “Iwa-chan?”

Only the low beep of the phone answered, and when he looked at his screen again, Oikawa realised that Iwaizumi had hung up on him.

“ _What the fuck_ was that for?”

It took Oikawa a lot of mental strength to keep himself busy for the next five hours. Somehow, once passed the frustration of Iwaizumi hanging up on him, knowing he would have him on the phone again a few hours later made Oikawa’s day a much better one. Having something to look forward to helped time go by faster, and between Iwaizumi’s call and the volleyball activities starting next week, Oikawa was beginning to be more like his usual self.

As promised, Iwaizumi and Oikawa exchanged text messages during the afternoon… That is, until Iwaizumi went missing in action again, without any warning. He had probably fallen asleep in spite of everything.

Eventually, a few minutes before eight o’clock rang, Oikawa’s phone buzzed on the desk, nearly pushing it over the edge. He caught it right before it hit the ground and picked up in the same swift motion, dropping onto his desk chair and turning to the laptop screen like the — very sexy, or at least that was how he saw himself — villain of a spy movie.

“Oikawa’s best friend agency, how can I help you?” he grinned.

“First of all, can you take a pic of the landscape?” Iwaizumi started without ceremony. “My mom keeps asking me what San Juan looks like and honestly, I have no idea what to say.”

Oikawa cringed — that meant opening the window and letting the hot dry air in — and got up from his chair with a sigh. “Alright, but don’t you dare hang up on me again. You’re lucky, the sunset is very pretty, ton—“

He froze in the middle of his sentence, agape at the unexpected sight, startled only when his phone slipped from his hand and fell to the ground one floor below in slow motion. It never hit the pavement, though.

“H-Hey, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa stammered, the corner of his lips twitching, undecided between the hugest grin and the ugliest sob. “Nice receive.”

And down there, exhaustion drawing his features, Iwaizumi was grinning like he had just won the Olympics on his own.

“No but, seriously, what are you even doing here?” Oikawa asked him once they had carried his — heavy as hell — luggage upstairs. “And _why_ haven’t you told me you were coming?!”

“That’s the whole point of doing a surprise,” the other retorted, repressing a yawn. “But don’t get too full of yourself,” Iwaizumi continued, sitting on the bed and testing the mattress like a kid. “I’m not just here for your pretty eyes.”

“Not _just_ my eyes?” Oikawa repeated with a smug grin that earned him what would have been a glare, had Iwaizumi been able to put more energy into it.

“I don’t think I have the strength to give you the full story right now,” Iwaizumi yawned again. He leant against the nearest wall, his eyelids fluttering and threatening to close for good. “To be followed,” he added with the same smug grin as his friend.

Soft, drawn to him and, he had to say, a bit concerned, Oikawa moved from his spot on his desk to sit beside him. Iwaizumi had to catch himself on his best friend’s shoulder not to fall forward when the mattress creased under the added weight.

“How long are you staying?” the setter asked, keeping his hand on Iwaizumi’s chest to steady him, worry and apprehension battling for dominance in the back of his mind.

“A week or two, something like that. Still got some things to sort out, but I figured I could do it from here.”

Oikawa nodded and weakly bumped the other’s shoulder to get his attention. Then, he got to his feet again, facing Iwaizumi, and put his hands on his hips to look down at his best friends.

“It’s probably gonna take a while for you to get over the jet lag, so you go get a shower and take a nap or whatever. And don’t you dare drown in _my_ bathroom!”

In front of him, Iwaizumi stared at him for a moment, one eyebrow raised and an amused smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Since when are you so responsible?”

“I’m stealing your spot until you’re fully yourself again,” Oikawa declared. “Listen to your captain!”

On these words, he turned to the nearest closet and threw a towel into his best friend’s face. His laugh echoed on the walls when it slid from Iwaizumi’s face and into his hands without the ace moving an inch.

When Iwaizumi eventually got up and disappeared in the bathroom, not without having gazed at the photo pinned on the wall and the jersey displayed near it, Oikawa was left staring at the closed luggage and the familiar backpack near his bed. His thoughts drifted, carried away by the sound of water running down. This time, he was awake when his vision of the future manifested again, one where domestic scenes like this would be his daily life — their daily life. He flicked a quick glance at the bathroom door, flustered, and prepared the ingredients for dinner. Even a detail as trivial as cooking for two was enough to bring a smile to his face, and when Iwaizumi stepped out of the shower, his hair still wet and wearing clothes borrowed from Oikawa, he found his friend humming to himself in front of the pan.

“’m gonna sleep a bit,” Iwaizumi announced, dropping face first onto the bed.

When Oikawa turned to him two seconds later, Iwaizumi was sound asleep.

A crooked smile stretched Oikawa’s lips. “ _And there was only one bed_ ,” he joked theatrically, and went back to his combusting tofu with a muffled oath.

* * *

Iwaizumi woke up in the middle of the night. His eyes snapped open on the darkness, and for a stressful moment, he couldn’t remember where he was. Nearly two days of travelling across the globe had been enough to get rid of the entirety of his sense of orientation, and he was certain that it had to be some time in the day. Pitch dark didn’t make sense. Even the feeling he got from the room was off. It was foreign, and too big and too noisy compared to what he was used to.

Slightly panicked, he fumbled around for his phone — or a light switch or anything that could help him make light — and his shoulder hit a wall that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. It was only when Oikawa groaned that everything fell back into place in his brain and Iwaizumi remembered what he had done, and where he was. Packing in a hurry and taking the first flight to South America hadn’t really been what one would call a wise decision, but did he regret it?

Beside him, the mattress shifted, and Oikawa sat up in the dark, yawning loudly, his delicate features vaguely highlighted by a stray ray of moonlight.

No, definitely, Iwaizumi didn’t regret a second of it. His family had been prepared for him leaving so fast, anyway. They had seen it coming.

“Sorry, I woke you up,” Iwaizumi apologized when Oikawa glanced at him.

Another yawn resonated, followed by a thud when the back of Oikawa’s head hit the wall.

“Feeling better?” the setter asked, staying still.

He was almost afraid to move, afraid to wake up fully and realise it had all been another dream.

“Like I’ve been run over by a truck a few hundreds of times, but yeah. I think my brain is working, at least,” Iwaizumi chuckled, the soft sound melting Oikawa’s heart.

Yet, the bickering was part of their dynamic, and Oikawa couldn’t help but tease the other.

“Must be a brand new feeling. You’re gonna have a hard time getting used to it, Iwa-chan.”

“I’ll tell you what it feels like, so you can have an idea,” the other replied immediately, the short silence that followed immediately filled by another muffled laugh.

His eyes getting used to the darkness, Oikawa glanced at Iwaizumi. He could make out the outlines of his silhouette, and from the angle of his face, Iwaizumi was looking at him too. Gazing at him.

“So, are you gonna tell me what you’re doing in Argentina?” Oikawa asked, his eyes never leaving Iwaizumi as he sat up beside him, their shoulders brushing lightly against each other — but it was enough for Oikawa to be hyper aware of it, and of the warmth that threatened to smolder him completely.

“Actually, I just got accepted into a uni in the USA.”

“Iwa-chan, that’s awesome!” the other blurted out, turning to him so violently that Iwaizumi’s other shoulder hit the corner wall again.

Iwaizumi wasn’t done with his explanations, though, and he continued, lightly glaring at his best friend for the unfortunate pain. “I got the confirmation right after I called you last time, and I packed on the next day. The school year isn’t starting for a while so I thought I would hop over and spend some time with you before I visited California. Anyway, the time difference there is only four hours backwards, so compared to Japan it’ll be much easier to keep in touch.”

A playful grin on his face, Oikawa nudged him again. “Just admit it, you couldn’t bear living on a different continent that me!”

“It’s still another continent, Trashykawa,” Iwaizumi pointed out with an equally teasing smile.

“You know what I mean.”

Oikawa’s laugh died in his throat when Iwaizumi moved closer again, pressing himself against Oikawa until they were touching from shoulder to hip. His eyes closed, Iwaizumi rested his head against the wall, and let it slide until it bumped Oikawa’s. It would have only been an affectionate gesture if he hadn’t stayed there as if he intended to sleep like this. Instead, it turned into something more, something in which the bond they shared fully came to life, trust and truths alike.

All thoughts vanished from the setter’s mind but the perception of Iwaizumi’s presence, and the warm breath he exhaled made Oikawa’s heart beat harder against his ribcage. There was no way Iwaizumi couldn’t hear or feel it with the way he was settled and the sudden quietness of the room.

Oikawa’s heart skipped a few other beats when the back of Iwaizumi’s hand brushed his, and Oikawa couldn’t help the sharp breath he took in.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi called, his voice deeper than usual, his eyelids still shut. It sounded distant, lost. Pained, also — no, _longing._ “Do you mind if I hug you?”

There was a floating moment during which the words reached through the heavy fog of Oikawa’s mind. Finally, he cracked a smile, light-hearted and at peace, and pulled Iwaizumi closer.

The latter passed an arm around his friend’s waist, struggling to manoeuver himself in the tiny spot he was occupying on the single bed, pressed between Oikawa and the wall. His knees bumped against Oikawa’s hip when he gathered them under himself, and Iwaizumi buried his face in the crook of the other’s neck, as if the position wasn’t uncomfortable — as if it wasn’t the first time he came so close, as if it wasn’t the first time he knowingly let Oikawa read his thoughts so openly.

“You must really be tired,” the setter tried to joke nonetheless, but it fell flat in the bubble of intimacy forming around them.

He listened more closely, half-expecting to feel Iwaizumi shaking against him, but his breath was deep and regular. He wasn’t about to cry, all he wanted was to have Oikawa close to him, to let him know he was there, and vice versa.

Still silent, Iwaizumi took hold of Oikawa’s hand, squeezing it ever so slightly, and placed it in his own hair. In response, Oikawa pulled Iwaizumi closer — his best friend, or whatever more he was to him —, and slid his free hand up his back, pressing his palm flat against Iwaizumi’s skin.

“I missed you too, Iwa-chan,” he whispered to the dark.

The other nodded and silence settled once more between them, comfortable and meaningful. For a moment, Oikawa thought Iwaizumi had fallen asleep again, but in the end he was the one to break the silence first.

“Hey, Oikawa?”

“Mh?”

He had started tracing circles on Iwaizumi’s skin, absentmindedly, his eyelids half closed, relaxed as he hadn’t been in a long time.

“The letters… I meant them. Both times.”

If it was possible, Oikawa pulled him even closer, their hug so tight it was almost painful. Their bones were pressing against each other, bodies twisted in improbable positions, and Oikawa was certain all blood had left Iwaizumi’s legs long ago. Yet, even a full night spent like this would never be as painful as the idea of not seeing each other again for the next five years or so — or ever again.

“I know,” Oikawa murmured eventually.

His fingers slid from Iwaizumi’s hair to brush his jawline, and a flash of delight washed over Oikawa when Iwaizumi leant into the touch, a content sigh escaping his lips. No, not delight, not exactly. Not only.

It took Oikawa all his courage to pronounce the next five words, his heart pulsing in his throat.

“Hajime?” — Iwaizumi shivered at the name — “Can I kiss you?”

As if in a dream, Iwaizumi pulled back to straighten up, his eyes searching Oikawa’s in the dim light. He leant closer again, their lips barely brushing, aware of every painful millimetre left between them, of every place where they touched and every place where they didn’t. And suddenly Iwaizumi twitched, an exclamation of pain leaving his lips.

“I can’t feel my legs anymore,” he blurted out, gritting his teeth and hitting his forehead against Oikawa’s shoulder, frustration rolling like thunder in the tone of his voice.

“Talk about a mood killer!” Oikawa objected immediately, puffing his cheeks and biting his tongue not to laugh. “That’s rude, you could have just said no!”

There was a short silence before both of them gave in and laughed at their own stupidity, relieving the tension accumulated during all the weeks they had spent apart, and all the opportunities they had missed before. Still one breath apart from each other, tangled up in a mess of sheets and limbs, they calmed down slowly, smiling like crazy idiots in love, unable to take their eyes off each other.

There was a lightness in their joy that felt like freedom, like buds opening in the prime of spring.

Eventually, Oikawa leant in again, gazing at Iwaizumi until he was too close to see him neatly anymore. Iwaizumi hooked his fingers in Oikawa's curls and, pulling him closer again, a genuine and dreamy smile floating on his lips, he pressed their lips together, as if they had been made to belong against each other.

* * *

They were woken up in the morning by someone banging at the door, with too much energy for a Monday morning. Oikawa cursed under his breath, ready to fight any person who dared take his first night of restful sleep in weeks away.

 _“Tooru! Come on, I know you’re in there!”_ a woman’s voice called, mocking and too full of life to Oikawa’s taste.

He fought the bed sheets for his life and freedom, glaring at Iwaizumi when he threw a pillow at the back of his head just to have a laugh, and stumbled to the door where Lucia was waiting for him, sporting the biggest grin ever — as always.

“ _Hello, sleepy head!_ ” she greeted him. “ _Zoe and I were wondering if you wanted to go see a movie later tod—_ “

She paused in the middle of her sentence, standing on her tiptoes to peek over Oikawa’s shoulder. He didn’t have to look back to know what she had spotted: Iwaizumi, sleepy-eyed, his hair a mess, drool still at the corner of his mouth, struggling to blink slumber away.

“ _I see you have a guest,_ ” Lucia beamed, sending her friend a knowing look which made him roll his eyes.

She didn’t miss the way he smiled.

“ _Is this the infamous Iwaizumi you keep telling me about?”_

Immediately, Oikawa twitched and turned to meet the smirk Iwaizumi sent him, his eyebrows lifted in teasing surprise.

“ _I don’t talk about him_ that _much!”_ he countered, the faintly red undertone of his cheeks refuting his every word even more than the gestures Lucia was making behind his back. “ _Anyway,_ ” Oikawa grunted in a desperate attempt at taking control of the conversation. “ _Lucia, Hajime. Iwa-chan, Lucia._ ”

“Hello, Hajime! Nice to meet you!” Lucia said in an approximate and heavily accented Japanese.

“ _Hola, Lucia_ ,” the other greeted her in turn in her language, rubbing his eyes and sending an amused glance at an obviously flustered Oikawa. “ _I hope this idiot doesn’t bother you too much,”_ he continued in perfect English that would have made their former teacher jealous.

“ _He’s okay, I guess,_ ” Lucia shrugged, and Oikawa was taken back to Seijoh whenever Matsukawa and Hanamaki ganged up with Iwaizumi to tease their captain.

Lucia turned back to Oikawa, an inquisitive look on her face. “ _You hadn’t told me you were together?”_

“ _No, he’s just my…”_ Oikawa faltered, and turned to Iwaizumi again, an uncertain light in his eyes, because actually, he didn’t know anymore.

Sure, they loved each other, in more than one way — it was obvious to anyone who looked at them, and it had probably been to anyone in Seijoh except Oikawa’s pragmatic mind — and Iwaizumi had already confessed to him twice — thrice, if he counted the last night. They had hugged, they had kissed, and they had been trading thoughts and pieces of their souls for all of their lives. Yet, Oikawa didn’t know where they stood, and even though they wouldn’t be as far from each other as if Iwaizumi had stayed in Japan, they would still have to endure a long distance relationship as soon as Iwaizumi would be settled in California.

“ _I see,_ ” Lucia intervened, breaking the silent conversation the two men were having, a patient and cheerful smile on her lips. “ _You’re not completely there yet. Anyway, the offer still stands!_ ” she told Oikawa, then glanced at Iwaizumi. “ _You can get a plus one for this time, but next time it’ll have to be an official double date,_ ” she concluded with a wink. “ _We’ll be picking you up around noon. I was planning to have lunch with Zoe, but you two should come with us. I have the feeling this won’t be Hajime’s only time in San Juan. Well, see you later, guys!_ ” she eventually called, turning on her heels in a cascade of brown hair and leaving without waiting for an answer.

Oikawa closed the door behind her and turned back to Iwaizumi, who was repressing a smile.

“Well, she’s lively,” he stated, making room on the bed for Oikawa to sit back beside him.

“She’s a _storm_ , Iwa-chan,” he declared, closing his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh as he flopped down on his back. “And don’t feel obliged to accept, we can do something else if you don’t want to hang out with them today.”

He opened an eye again to study the other, waiting for a reply that would give away the answer to the question still floating in the air.

“Nah, she sounds nice. And actually, I’d love to have a look around. I wasn’t lying when I said my mom keeps asking me what San Juan looks like.”

Oikawa remained staring up at him, and eventually, he asked the question that was already devouring him from inside.

“Iwa-chan? Are we dating?” he asked in all sincerity, his voice higher than his usual tone.

“I don’t know,” the other started seriously, raising an eyebrow. “Are we?”

Oikawa took half a second to decide, and the smirk he flashed that instant made Iwaizumi frown in anticipation.

“Can we start dating after you’ve brushed your teeth?” Oikawa offered in his annoying falsetto.

He didn’t have the time to dodge the pillow that landed in his face. Down in the street, Oikawa’s laugh echoed loudly, reaching Lucia. She wasn’t worried for these two.

It was obvious, after all. Tooru and Hajime had always belonged with each other, it had only taken them a bit later than everyone else around them to realise.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it for Oikawa week! I may add another fic based on "Trust" for Day 5 at some point but for now I'm not super satisfied with what I wrote.  
> Anyway, I hope you liked this! I'll be back next month with Seijoh week, and a few other big fics before that! ♡  
> You can also find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) if you want to know what I'm currently working on!


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